I don't remember when exactly I started to feel this way, but it happened after I turned 27. I recalled the months prior, and the vows I'd made to myself. I was going to be healthy again. I was that person, I am still her, but different.
At first I made excuses, I said that I could do whatever was on my agenda tomorrow and I didn't think twice about it. Then I just stopped going to the gym, I figured that if I just watched what I ate and worked a decent amount that I would just maintain my current weight. It was like this for a couple of months, but then the headaches started. And they kept coming. And soon I just didn't get out of bed.
Literally.
I just layed there, my mind active and my conscious floating above me, staring at the atrophied puppet I'd become.
I was upset to say the least, I wanted to be the girl I was before, who played roller derby and hung out with friends, confidence abound. I had done something to her, I'd never felt so strange.
Should I be an earthquake I'd barely register, I'd be the hurricane who never made landfall. Why this struggle?
I wake up in the mornings, early enough I believe, and then I just lay there. I'm tired for whatever reason, and my head hurts, not terribly but enough to nag. I am worried about myself.
I have used every morning since I felt this way to think about what ails me. Is it my thyroid? Is it TMJ? Is it cancer?
I think about the last thing, the very last thing that I want it to be.
Am I depressed?
No. I can't be depressed. I am mentally well, I mean, sure I have OCD issues, but they're under control.
I cannot be depressed. That would make me a hypocrite. I have been coaching several friends struggling through darkness onto the path of recovery.
No it's impossible.
Elle, you have to get a grip.
You, the girl who supouts uplifting mantras to her friends. I, who spreads the gospel of therapy.
I simply cannot be depressed.
And then it hits like a 10 ton train.
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